Лето
XVII
Assheapproacheditsheheardabird’snoteinthestillair,andlookingupshesawabrownsong-sparrowperchedinanupperbranchofthethornabovethegrave.Shestoodaminutelisteningtohissmallsolitarysong;thensherejoinedthetrailandbegantomountthehilltothepine-wood.
Thusfarshehadbeenimpelledbytheblindinstinctofflight;buteachstepseemedtobringhernearertotherealitiesofwhichherfeverishvigilhadgivenonlyashadowyimage.Nowthatshewalkedagaininadaylightworld,onthewaybacktofamiliarthings,herimaginationmovedmoresoberly.Ononepointshewasstilldecided:shecouldnotremainatNorthDormer,andthesoonershegotawayfromitthebetter.Buteverythingbeyondwasdarkness.
Asshecontinuedtoclimbtheairgrewkeener,andwhenshepassedfromtheshelterofthepinestotheopengrassyroofoftheMountainthecoldwindofthenightbeforesprangoutonher.Shebenthershouldersandstruggledonagainstitforawhile;butpresentlyherbreathfailed,andshesatdownunderaledgeofrockoverhungbyshiveringbirches.FromwhereshesatshesawthetrailwanderingacrossthebleachedgrassinthedirectionofHamblin,andthegranitewalloftheMountainfallingawaytoinfinitedistances.Onthatsideoftheridgethevalleysstilllayinwintryshadow;butintheplainbeyondthesunwastouchingvillageroofsandsteeples,andgildingthehazeofsmokeoverfar-offinvisibletowns.
Charityfeltherselfamerespeckinthelonelycircleofthesky.
